The Heart of a Templar
by EdKenway
Summary: James Winters, a young Assassin, has just witnessed an attack on his Bureau and the death of his master. He now embarks on a mission to hunt down the one who killed his mentor and repay the favour. Along the way, he finds out quite a bit about himself.


The Heart of a Templar 

I hold no affiliation with any companies and/or labels linked with the Assassin's Creed franchise, I merely play the games.

Prologue: London Assassin's Bureau (Modern Day)

Sweat was cascading down my forehead as I struck the leather punch bag again and again. High punches, low kicks, jumping at unexpected moments to avoid the wooden staff of my mentor, it was quite the vigorous workout. Perhaps I should explain a few things before I continue or you call social services. My name is James Winters, I am seventeen years old, originally from Dublin in Ireland but now I live in London with a couple of friends. By a couple I mean around thirty and by friends I mean fellow Assassins in the Bureau. As common as I speak (I can put on a sophisticated tone mind you) I am in fact a loyal believer in the True Creed.

'_Nothing is true, everything is permitted.' _

We live by this faithfully. I won't give you its exact meaning, you'd have to join our ranks or die if I did, but I can tell you that in essence it means no one thing is 100% true, everything has a flaw. The second part, well all I can really say is once we have a target, we can take him, her, them or it down or back in any way we can. Though a stealthier, hidden in shadows approach is usually encouraged and preferred.

Anyway, I get out very little, being the newest recruit into this particular Bureau. Don't think for a second that that means I am poor at what I do. The London Bureau is our third highest ranked, the second in New York and the first of course in the reclaimed Bureau of Masyaf. Usually, we don't define an Assassin's skill by the Bureau he is located in, however being part of the London Bureau as part of a transfer was a dream come true. By no means am I the greatest Assassin in the world but I can boast a wide range of skills in hand to hand combat, firearm use, use of any form of bladed or blunt weapon, free running, strong resistance to pain and a quicker pace than most other Assassins. So you see I am worthy of my position in London, I'm just not the best we have to offer.

As I was saying however, I get out very little due to my 'newbie' status. They recognise my skill as an Assassin but they are still taking the precaution of training me further to slim down the chances of a casualty. I appreciated it at first but after about four months of solid training from the break of dawn to late into the night, stopping only for food and water, I feel more than capable of taking on my first real mission. Not a simple little 'take out a corrupt politician' or 'catch this murderer'. No, I want to hunt my first Templar in this city. I want to experience the thrill of the hunt for our sworn enemies once again as I had done back in Dublin. I want to thrust the blade around my forearm and wrist into the unsuspecting throat of a Templar agent, even if he's only a harmless Abstergo employee. But I cannot, not until my master hands me one of those black envelopes with a name, location and picture in it. So until then, I train and train hard.

When my master finally called out "Stop!" I was relieved. I stepped away from the leather punch-bag and wiped the sweat from my brow. Quick as a flash, my instinct instructed me to leap, and leap I did. Just in time to feel the whoosh of air from my master's staff from underneath my airborne feet. The instant they touched the ground, I crouched, this time feeling the cold air ruffle my hair as the staff swung overhead. Without looking, I took a chance and dove to the left. This proved to be the right choice as my master had swung vertically to my last location. The loud crack of wood on stone echoed through the training room. Despite the fact he was my master, I knew I would have to counter his next attack. I stood up, my back slightly hunched in case I would need to dive and turned to look at him. His eyes were cold and determined, completely unforgiving of any mistakes. He jabbed at me with the staff, not realising that this is what I wanted. I sidestepped the wooden weapon, clamped both hands around it, wrapping my left arm around it for extra leverage and heaved it to the left, dragging my master with it. When it finally became too much for him, he stumbled, letting go of the weapon and giving me the opening I needed. Swinging the staff low, I took his feet out from underneath him. I quickly dropped it and ran over to my fallen master, placing one knee down heavily on his chest, balling my fist and striking him right where the collarbone meets the neck on the left hand side. It didn't knock him out, but it did hurt him quite a bit. Despite the pain he was in, he began chuckling.

"Alright Winters" (he always called me by my second name, much to my annoyance) "You win, now we really are finished." Electing to believe him this time, I stood up and offered my hand to help him up which he accepted.

"Good job Winters, you've come a long way since getting here, even I can see that." As he said this, I couldn't help but detect a certain tone of pride in his voice. "In truth, this was our last scheduled training session." He smiled at me as he said this. I must have been hearing things as his next actions were to reach into his duffle bag, pull out a small, rectangular, black envelope and hand it to me.

Taking the target, my hands shaking, I turned it around to find the red wax Assassin seal holding the envelope together. Breaking said seal, I slowly took out the folded piece of paper which held all the information I would need for my first target in London. According to the information, this guy had black hair in a comb-over style, wore glasses, had quite a large nose and had distinctive bright green eyes. I folded the paper and stuck it in my over-the-shoulder strap duffle bag and thanked my master multiple times. Just as I went to shake his hand however, a loud clatter sounded from down the hall. Despite the constant clang of swords and noise of pistols, we rarely ever ignore a sound unless it is one we have been familiar with for weeks in a row. Yanking the zip of my duffle bag open quickly, I pulled out my two hidden blades, the first of which went on my right wrist and the second obviously going on the other wrist. Checking they worked before rushing off, I sprinted down the hallway towards the origin point of the noise. Taking a sharp left towards the Entrance Hall, I skidded to a halt as I nearly slammed into two tall, burly men dressed in strange black robes with red stitched lining and the Templar Cross on the left hand side, just above where their heart was.

Regaining my composure, I flicked my wrists, extending the thin, sharp blades around my wrist. Already I had made a rookie mistake, I gave my enemies time to ready themselves and take out their shock batons. Nevertheless, I ran towards the closest one, jumped into the air and kicked him back. Spinning on one foot, I jammed the blade on my right wrist into the chest of the second attacker, followed quickly by the blade on the left to his throat. I wasted no time as he fell to the ground, lifeless and spurting blood, I kicked the first attacker once again before driving both blades down into the top of his skull. With my first two attackers dealt with, I took off down towards the Entrance Hall once more. What greeted me when I got there almost made me fall to my knees and weep. The grand banners that bore the symbol of our Order were on fire, the beautiful white marble floor was stained with the blood of my fallen brothers, whose bodies littered the floor. What shook me most however, was the presence of a single Templar. He wore black and red robes, similar in all but colour to those of the Templars I had recently dispatched. The black pants he wore were form fitting and seemed to allow complete unrestricted movement. The most striking feature of this character however, was his face, or the little that could be seen of it. Only his eyes were visible as he wore a hood to cover his head and face wrap around his lower face. He almost looked like an Assassin were it not for the fact that he wore the colours of the Templars or the fact that he had just driven two short-swords through two oncoming Assassins. It was clear that he was extremely skilled with these blades, the likes of which I had not seen used outside of training.

I soon realised that I had been standing there, merely watching this Templar murder two of my brothers, as his own brethren fought against more Assassins. Making my mind up quickly, I ran towards the nearest Templar, seized his head from behind and snapped his neck quickly. My Assassin brother thanked me but I had already moved on, dispatching another two Templars at once with both hidden blades. I wasn't performing miraculous feats, in fact I was merely killing from behind while the Templars fought my brothers and sisters, but if it saved their lives then so be it. My quick and cowardly murder of three of his men clearly attracted the hooded Templar's attention. He glared at me with icy blue eyes and grunted lightly. I knew I would need a weapon other than my blades so I whistled to one of my saved sisters, who threw me the only weapon she could find on one of the wall racks, a long-staff. Twirling it in my hands, I found that it was remarkably light but still quite sturdy. Now all I needed was for my reflexes to keep in time with my mind and I should be fine.

It was as if the entire Hall had been emptied with the exception of myself and the hooded Templar. I kept my eyes on him and blocked out all other distractions. I approached him slowly and he followed suit until we were within arms reach of one another. He wasn't as tall as I expected, in fact he was actually about an inch or two smaller but he gave of an aura of strength, confidence and determination to kill every last Assassin in this Bureau. We simply tried to stare the other person down at first, neither of us willing to give in of course. Finally, without warning, the Templar lashed out with both blades, missing my head narrowly as I ducked. I jabbed at his stomach with the staff but he simply sidestepped it. Swinging his blades wildly, I was forced to retreat back, step by step, to avoid getting decapitated. For a Templar who killed so many of my people, he fought with little or no tactic or style. Just as that thought crossed my mind however, he stabbed at me with the blade in his right hand and slashed at my neck with the blade in his left. Rolling backwards, I felt the tip of one of the left hand blade slice across my skin, leaving a shallow cut. Landing back on my feet, I lashed out with a quick kick to his gut, eliciting a grunt of pain from him and causing him to double over. Lifting my leg high, I brought my foot down on top of his head, slamming it into the ground. His swords skidded away in opposite directions and at least his nose should have been broken from the force of the impact, so I felt safe enough to approach him cautiously. Shakily, he got up on one knee and checked both his nose and his lower lip for any signs of blood, which of course there was. What happened next can only be described as a flash of lightning. I heard heavy footsteps behind me, turning around I had only seconds to evade the shock baton that was aimed for my head. Rolling forward past my attacker, I quickly got to my feet, spun around again and threw myself at him, embedding one of my blades in his throat. This attack had given the hooded Templar enough time to recuperate and get to his feet. Choosing to go for one of his short swords rather than attack bare-handed, he bolted off to the right to reclaim one. Just as he picked it up, a very familiar figure approached him from behind. I watched as my master, a thin bladed sword in hand, slashed at the hooded Templar. I felt a warm sense of relief rush through my body. Surely if I could hold my own, my master would easily defeat this Templar scum. Instead, I turned my attention to the other minor Templars, who were still filing in endlessly, causing great trouble for the Assassins. I really shouldn't have looked for the staff I had used against the Templar. If I hadn't I might not have seen what happened next.

I turned around, looking for the long staff but as I did, I caught a glimpse of my master forcing the hooded Templar backwards. Out of nowhere, the Templar parried my master's attack, kicked him backwards, knocking him onto his rear end and pulled out a compact, silver pistol. Time slowed as I watched him take aim at the man who I essentially saw as my father. I took off at a sprint towards the Templar but I was too late. I skidded to a halt as a loud BANG resonated throughout the Hall. A quick spurt of blood from my master's neck and his frightful gasps for air suddenly cutting off told me all I needed to know. My mentor, my father figure and the only man who ever gave me a real chance in this place, was dead. I looked at the bastard who had shot him as he looked over at me. The look in his eyes was one of cruel contentment. Raising his short sword up high, there came a cry of

"Their master is dead! Our job here is done! Retreat! Retreat now!"

At this, each and every Templar suddenly just dropped their weapons and ran for the exit. Some were stopped in their tracks by a blade or a bullet or a bolt from a crossbow lodging in their skulls but most of them made it out. I watched as my master's killer ran for the exit, slicing and pushing Assassins out of the way as he ran. Rage consumed me and I found myself sprinting after him with no regard of my own safety or any idea of what I'd do if I caught him. Now our Bureau leads out onto a small backstreet in London, the only reason it is so big is we dug down underneath it and hollowed out great areas. To the eye of an innocent, it was just a row of small, dingy houses down a dark alleyway. How the Templars found us, I will never know. As I burst out the door, I saw him climbing up a gutter-pipe rather expertly for a Templar. I quickly followed suit, scrambling up the two-storey building after him. At the top of the flat roofed building, I was surprised to find the hooded Templar merely standing there, his back to me. I silently climbed to my feet and extended both hidden blades. Then, to my surprise, he spoke to me, his voice soft as a whisper yet still holding confidence.

"Go home Assassin, I have no need to fight you."

"You murdered my master!" I roared in return. "Now you will face the consequences."

Turning on the spot, the Templar raised his voice, it wasn't a harsh or rough voice as I expected but rather slightly high pitched with softness still evident.

"You will give me no choice but to kill you as well if you do not heed my warning! Now go!"

As we had done so a few short minutes ago, we locked eyes, his cold, icy blue eyes meeting my green ones. I watched as his eyes narrowed and his chest heaved slightly in a heavy sigh. Then, with little or no reaction from me, he tossed a small, rounded capsule at my feet, which exploded in a large puff of brown smoke. I immediately covered my mouth, eyes and nose before the smoke could have a chance to enter my lungs or my eyes. Waving my hand in front of me like a mad-man, I soon had the smoke cleared from my face. Running to the edge of the building, I peered down and, to my complete and utter shock, the hooded Templar was still there. Not only that, he was looking right up at me, holding his left hand over the mouth of a young, teenage girl and a dagger to her throat with his left.

"Drop down slowly, Assassin!" He shouted up to me, his voice echoing slightly in the empty back-alley where he stood.

Despite my anger, I could not let an innocent die, not like this. I stepped off the edge of the building, landing in a crouched position a few feet away from the Templar.

"Now, toss over your hidden blades." He demanded.

Grunting as I did so, I unclasped the hidden blades from my wrists and slid them along the ground over to my hooded foe.

"Let her go Templar." I shouted over at him. "There is no need for an innocent to be harmed in all of this."

At my words, the Templar laughed quite maliciously.

"Very well Assassin! Take her!"

He removed the dagger from her throat and shoved her, hard, towards me. I rushed forward, catching her just as she tripped on the cold pavement. Looking over her shoulder, I saw the hooded Templar's eyes narrow and in an instant I knew what would happen next. I watched as his right hand, still holding the dagger, drew back slowly before lunging forward, the small bladed weapon leaving his hand. Reacting on pure instinct, I threw myself backwards, taking the girl with me, onto the ground. Hitting it with a thud, I groaned. Surprisingly, the girl was extremely light and didn't add much to the impact as she landed on top of me. Carefully rolling her off of me, I jumped to my feet and looked around for the Templar, who had run the minute the dagger had left his hand.

Looking back at the girl, I knelt down beside her, checking to make sure he hadn't hurt her in any way. Her eyes, which had been closed since the Templar had shoved her, opened slowly, full of fear.

"Don't worry." I assured her, "He's gone. He left after he threw the knife."

This seemed to do little to settle her nerves and, as such, she backed away from me as quickly as she could once she had gotten to her feet.

"Listen to me, the Templars are cruel, vicious people. Perhaps the Assassins are not so different in our ways of negotiating but we are not cruel to the innocent nor do we ever try to use them as leverage over our opponents. You can trust me not to hurt you."

I extended my hand for her to take, waiting patiently while she made her mind up. On the one hand I had saved her from a strange hooded man with a knife. But on the other, I was a complete stranger who had a knife thrown at him. Slowly however, she walked towards me and accepted my hand.

"Do you have a home?" I asked her.

She shook her head, telling me, in a very quiet voice, that she was homeless and slept in the very alley in which we now stood. She pointed to a pile of empty black bags, telling me that that was her bed at night. I immediately took pity on the girl and, without further hesitation, I offered to let her stay at my place, which was of course the destroyed Assassin's Bureau. She argued at first but after my insistence, she agreed, thanking me numerous times. There was something about this girl that had me strangely attracted to her. In all fairness, she was very easy on the eye, with straight black hair down her back, warming brown eyes and a slight bronze tint to her skin. It was none of these features that readily caught my attention however, whatever it was, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Maybe I'd find out at a later stage, maybe not. All I cared about right now was getting this girl a roof over her head and then finding that hooded son of a bitch and ripping his lungs out for what he did to my master. I made a silent vow to myself that I would do this or die trying and I never break my word.

_Well, I hope you guys enjoyed this. I'm not the best writer I know that but I can't help myself. I love it. So, if you guys will read, I will continue to write and hopefully, I get a good response. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated but I will not ban bad reviews. Everyone has their own opinion and should be allowed to make it.  
Thanks for reading guys and leave a review if you so please. _


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